{…first appeared in the Clockwise Cat…}

I was a bland and humorless child.   The causes of this condition are legion.  Start with the combed-over, slicked-down hair,  parted just above my left ear and extending in a single horrifying mass all the way to my right ear.  Throw in debilitating shyness, paralyzing social anxiety, and a genetic inability to catch, hit, throw, or run while holding a ball of any kind, and you have the makings of one sorry specimen of American boyhood—me.  And it was all down hill as I made my way into an awkward adolescence and dysfunctional young adulthood: glasses with lenses as thick as bricks, volcanic pustules of cystic acne, and a nearly terminal case of protracted virginity…

Read the rest in The Cynic Online Magazine…